The Ketchup Bouquet
by junienmomo
Summary: Lorelai, in the early years, is sowing her wild oats. She doesn't want a deep, permanent relationship. That's why she won't date Luke. Until one day, something starts her thinking differently.
1. Wild Oats

Lorelai pressed her lips together in a pout that wasn't designed to get her anything. It was simply an expression of sadness for her friend Luke. His Uncle Louie, his dad's only surviving brother, was dead, and Luke was left with the task of burying the eighty-five year old man.

"Tina," who turned as Lorelai called her name, "I've blocked nine rooms in my name. Could you please make sure that they get booked into rooms in the wing with the good bathrooms?"

Tina dropped the last of the mail into the appropriate cubby. "Sure, Lorelai, no problem. VIPs?"

Lorelai blinked. Luke's relatives? Of course they were VIPs, or more accurately, they were relatives of Luke, who was a VIP in her book.

"Yeah, definitely." She turned to go back to the dining area, then stopped. "Oh, and can you make up VIP baskets for them, too?"

"Got it. Everything will be in the room when they arrive: robes, town discount card, snacks."

Lorelai smiled at Tina as she thanked her. "Make sure you open a fresh box of gummy bears. The old ones are like chewing on my purse. Oh, and please come get me in the dining room in about five minutes, OK? Doesn't matter why, but think of something good."

Lorelai squinted as she tried to think of something else to do rather than go back to the soup tasting. No ideas. She was tapped. Her mother was waiting, and she knew she wouldn't hear the end of it unless she returned.

She walked halfway across the lobby before she realized she still had the cordless phone in her hand. All she could think about at the moment was Luke. Was he sad? She couldn't tell by his voice on the phone. Did he need someone to talk to?

Michel raised an eyebrow and sighed as she placed the phone into his hand. "If you wish to make my job impossible, you are succeeding beyond belief," he sneered.

"How's Luke?" sing-songed Sookie with a bright grin on her face when Lorelai dragged herself to Emily's table.

"Luke's fine," said Lorelai curtly, looking at the table to avoid her mother's supercilious yet inquisitive gaze. Her thoughts were full of Luke and his phone call. He sounded very casual, almost nonchalant, an impossibility for Luke. She could sense the relief in his voice when he told her it was for a funeral. Luke Danes, who never needed anybody, needed her help now.

Emily folded her napkin and laid it carefully on the table. "Mushroom soup," she said calmly. "Mushroom soup and chicken Caesar salad, with a fresh herb roll."

"Caesar?" babbled a distracted Lorelai. "What about Caesar? He's got to cover for Luke. I'm sure Luke has a lot of things he needs to be doing."

Before either Sookie or Emily could ask for an explanation, Tina came in, saying, "Lorelai, do you ..."

"Yes! Thanks, Tina! I'll be right there," interrupted her boss quickly and gratefully.

Turning to Sookie, she confirmed that the menu was set, then said goodbye to her mother. "See you on Friday, Mom!" She said as she followed Tina out of the dining room, leaving a confused pair behind.

"Lorelai!" called Emily indignantly, "Come back here and explain yourself about Luke!"

Their confusion didn't matter to Lorelai. She had to check on Luke.

* * *

Lorelai dashed into the diner and looked for Luke, who was just exiting the kitchen. Smiling, she met him halfway and wrapped her arms around his waist, her purse accidentally bouncing off his butt.

"Uh, Lorelai, do you mind?" She had halted his progress and he now stood in the center of the room, arms outstretched like a scarecrow, but with plates of food in his hands.

She hugged him hard, her head laying on his chest, then let him go gently. "How are you holding up?" she asked, her sympathetic blue eyes dissolving the knot that had formed inside his gut.

He lowered his elbows until he could carry the plates comfortably. "I'm holding up just fine," he said, adding, "but I'm not so sure about you. That was a little weird." He set the plates down on the right table before turning back to her, placing his hands challengingly on his hips.

"No, that was a little hug, and there was nothing weird about it," she defended herself, giving him a little push on his shoulder. "We hug all the time."

"No, we don't. We don't hug, except for birthdays."

"Today I'm making an exception," she explained. "You've just had a loss in the family. That gets a hug."

"Geez. Is that why you're here? I told you it was no big deal."

"It is a big deal, Luke! I wanted to show you that I am here for you. Didn't you enjoy it? Don't you feel better now?"

He grunted. "Maybe next time you could show me outside of diner hours. Delivering food late keeps my staff from getting tips."

Truth was Luke did feel better. He loved Lorelai hugs. They'd come out of the blue. Maybe he'd done her a favor, or said something that touched her, or she got some crazy notion that he would never understand, like declaring 'Hug a Diner Guy' day, and suddenly he would find himself with her arms wrapped around his neck or his waist. He'd catch a whiff of her scent, but before he could return the favor she would step away, leaving him happy for the moment, but sad because it was over.

He couldn't control Lorelai hugs, not like he could the coffee. He carried a scrap of paper in his wallet that guided him about the coffee. "Give her coffee and she will go away." Luke had refined her coffee dose to the point that she had to come back often. Telling her coffee would kill her simply inspired her to rebel against his recommendation and come back even more often.

"I'm not going to jump in with a 'dirty' for that diner hours remark, Mister, because I know you're prostrate with grief." Giving him a split second for his expected derisive snort, she continued, "but I wouldn't mind a coffee to go."

With his normal long-suffering expression, he handed her the coffee, then turned to go back to work.

Lorelai smiled as the door closed, Luke yelling "Get away from me!" at Kirk, who came to the cash register with open arms, ready to hug his friend as well.

* * *

Lorelai's brain was like a washing machine's spin cycle. Any thought on her mind spun round in circles until she got her answer. Sometimes the answer came out nice and crisp, like freshly washed sheets that she could snap smooth before putting them in the dryer. Other times they came out tangled and knotted together like sweat pants being choked by underwear all knotted up and twisted, then bound tightly by a brassiere hooked into the mess like a bungee cord.

One of the many levels of Lorelai's thought circles, right above wondering where she could get trim white 1950's sneakers like Baby's, and right below finding a replacement shampoo for her favorite but now discontinued candy apple scent, was Luke.

More specifically, part of Luke. A big part. One she'd touched yesterday and longed to touch again.

The hug was eye-opening. It stirred things inside her, libido kinds of things. Luke also stirred feelings of friendship, so she suppressed the naughty thoughts and focused on getting her daughter some breakfast then off to school, followed by hanging out in the diner, keeping him company through the next lull.

* * *

"Whoa, look at that," said Rory as they approached the diner, pointing to Luke's window. "Didn't we see this movie the other day?"

Lorelai grinned. "Jerry Lewis in The Diner Guy? Well, you know Luke is Our Diner Guy. Can't quite picture him with buck teeth and round glasses, though."

"Yeah, I don't remember that being a Jerry Lewis movie," said Rory with a puzzled face.

"Doesn't matter," replied her mother. "All the Jerry Lewis movies from the sixties had the same plot anyway."

Watching Luke move gracefully around the diner until the phone cord held him back, Lorelai reminded herself that she kept a strict line between her and Luke. People teased them, told them they were blind, tried to set them up, but Lorelai generally managed to escape the most embarrassing moments.

Lorelai knew the real reason she stayed away from Luke. She was sowing her wild oats. So many wild oats, to be exact, that Euell Gibbons would have been kept perpetually in granola had he still been alive.

It was one of those curious twists of personality in her and Rory's relationship that Rory acted like an adult with a steady boyfriend and Lorelai acted out the teenage fantasies that she'd given up when she happily took over full time care for her daughter.

She dated hardly at all until Rory became more independent at fourteen, but when Rory started at Chilton and got her first boyfriend something changed inside of her mother. Now Lorelai flirted with any living creature (was particularly successful with stray puppies at the pet fair), and was intent on playing the field and having fun. She was doing everything in her power to enjoy her teenage years, even though she was 32.

She never considered Luke for her wild oats because Luke was the opposite of the wild oat. He was a pillar in her life, untouchable almost. They flirted, but always stopped before a normal flirtation would have changed to a date invitation. That's the way she wanted her Luke. It didn't matter that the touching and hugging this week was rapidly becoming something she couldn't live without. She had her rules and needed to stick to them.

Lorelai put an extra padlock on her burgeoning Luke feelings as they went into the diner.

* * *

"Despot," grumbled Jess as he reluctantly filled the water pitcher under Rory's watchful eyes.

Lorelai turned to Luke, her heart still thundering from the excitement of the diner rush and the unanticipated tingle she got when she pushed Luke back behind the counter to prevent him decapitating any of his customers. The hard planes of his back muscles were enticing her to let he hand slide slowly down his back, investigating other areas of his body.

It didn't take long for her and Rory to help Luke get the diner back on track. After delivering food to the crank in the hat and the lady with the giant purse, Rory had conscripted Jess into ice water and cleanup duty, and Luke looked less stressed.

Lorelai breathed easier when she saw Luke lean up against the back counter, where he was out of main traffic, but could still be on the phone and keep an eye on the diner at the same time. Her friend looked a little calmer, and she was glad to help out.

This work was easier than the front desk of the Independence Inn on a busy checkout morning, mainly because most of the customers were regulars and didn't feel the need to try and get a little something extra out of the deal. With the exception of Mr. Seven Equal Packets Gleason, it was "French toast, bacon and juice" and no one was suddenly 'remembering' that they couldn't sleep all night because the pillows were too noisy and that they needed a discount on their room for the inconvenience. She made a mental note to try being more grumpy around troublesome customers at the Inn in the hopes of reducing those fake complaints until she remembered that Michel was Luke with a suit and a French accent. That was just another one of those reasons Michel remained a fixture on her staff.

She was enjoying the banter with the customers and the bustle of the diner, when she suddenly realized the real reason Luke never let her go behind the counter. It was dangerous. Luke was dangerous.

Moving past him to pick up plates, she nearly tripped over his feet. Luke reached out a hand to steady her and a new tingle sparkled through her spine.

The closeness was enticing. Two people behind the counter had to be very comfortable with each other's bodies in order to get any work done.

She touched him again as she took over counter duty to pour Kirk a cup of coffee and to challenge him about his use of Equal. Luke touched her as they moved past each other, then completely invaded her personal space as they bickered a second time over making coffee.

"You should get back to work," said Luke. "How do you have time to help me out here?"

"First, it's my day off, so I'm all yours. Since I don't cook, I don't clean, and you do all my household repairs, I'm all yours, baby."

Sometimes she steadied herself on his shoulder. Once her thigh brushed up against his leg as she passed. When she accidentally glanced down at Luke's lower half as she moved between the counter and the serving window, she noticed a slight but distinct reaction Luke was having. He was responding to her touches as much as she was to his.

Lorelai liked helping Luke out. She liked touching him. He obviously liked being around her, too.

"Okay, I should probably go pick out a coffin before he gets here," said Luke as he got off the phone. He looked at her affectionately, grateful that she'd helped out so much already.

Standing close enough to lose herself in the deep blue ocean that was his eyes, Lorelai felt her toes tingle, and she struggled to put up her defense shields. This mutual admiration society they seemed to be starting was exciting, because it was sexy and thrilling and it made her hot to realize that he felt the same way. She fell victim to the attraction one more time when she patted his chest as she assured him there was no need to close the diner.

She'd really enjoyed the hug. It was warm, intimate, loving, and sexy. And it was all wrong. Because it was Luke. And Luke was against her rules.


	2. Pin a Rose on It

Lorelai breathed a sigh of relief. The zipper closed. The dress fit. The previous week she barely escaped Emily's wrath when she quickly opened a seam in her debutante ball gown and gave her expanding belly just enough room to stand without fainting while her photo was taken. Later that night she opened the rest of the seams and hand-stitched a little more space, crossing her fingers in the hope that it would still fit for the debutante ball in three days. She vowed to start doing stomach crunches and to reduce this pooch she'd developed in her abdomen.

"Good," said Emily as a white-gloved Lorelai took her father's arm and he escorted her safely down the stairs, paused for the presentation, then handed her off to Christopher. "This is the way it's supposed to be. A few more balls, and if no better prospects come along, she can marry Christopher."

Annoyed with the whole coming-out process, Lorelai stood, feather fan in hand, waiting for the fan dance to begin. Betsy Grayson, next to her in line, wrinkled her nose at Christopher as he walked away from them. "You don't want to marry him," she nudged Lorelai, "He's kinda prissy. He can't possibly be 'The One.'"

Lorelai agreed. "Nobody marries their first boyfriend." She dreamt of traveling, college, and finally having some freedom from her parents. She'd never given a moment's thought to a future with Christopher.

After the humiliation of dancing in a circle with a dozen other young women, trying to look as much as possible as swans, Lorelai gratefully took to the dance floor, and after her father danced a few cursory rounds with her, she was free to dance with others.

Christopher danced, of course, and was followed by pretty much every boy she was acquainted with, twirling around and around until that song ended and another boy stood before her. She gleefully rejected Digger, who had embarrassed her in front of the whole camp last summer by flipping her out of the canoe on the lake and christening her "Umlauts" before she could cross her arms over her chest.

Slowly the boys started changing into men and she recalled their names, one by one. Barry, the head waiter at the Independence Inn, who'd taken her out once. Jerry, Dave, Sammy and a host of other co-workers and friends of co-workers. An older guy appeared and it took her a moment to realize it was the Chilton dad from Rory's first day at school.

She noticed that she, too, had grown and aged as she energetically threw herself into each waltz, tango and mambo. Rory's start at Chilton gave her a feeling of freedom when it came to men. A now-mature Rory could handle her mother having a boyfriend, and suddenly the men hitting on her were now possibilities rather than pesky bumblebees buzzing around her.

She looked down as she danced. Her body was solid; her figure perfect, not even her worst memories of Emily's insults could crack her resolve to enjoy her adulthood in every way. Before her eyes her prim white debutante dress had slowly started taking on color, and was now sexy, bright and reflected her 33 year old self. Sheer happiness caused her to laugh out loud, delighted in her vibrant, energetic persona.

After a couple more nameless faces, she found herself standing in front of Max Medina.

"Man," she thought to herself as they danced, "He may be a sweet talker, but he's pushing me around like I was a broom."

Before she had time to process how Max came to her debutante ball, she was spun around and landed in a pair of strong arms and a muscular body clad in an immaculate dark suit.

This wasn't sixteen year old Christopher, clumsily trying his dance class moves on her. Nor was it pushy Max. Instead she felt as if she were floating, a strong hand with a light touch on her back, feeling her movements as well as guiding her confidently around the floor.

In contrast to her other partners, this one clicked. Everything fit. He wasn't leading as much as challenging her, both supporting her and daring her to speed up, do more, be bolder. Be more Lorelai.

She leaned into his embrace as they sped up, adding twists and twirls as she gained her confidence. She sighed, forgetting her parents, the debutante cycle, everything except the strength and comfort she felt from this guy's arms. It's like he senses my rhythm; feels it; feels me, she thought. Coffee was a distinct undertone in his cologne. Just as she was melting into Unknown Guy's embrace, her mother's voice cut through. "Idiots. The both of you."

"Gah!" she cried as she awoke.

Rory shrieked back at her, nearly spilling the coffee she'd brought upstairs to her mother's bedroom. "What is with you?" she demanded.

"Never combine Phish Food ice cream, double pepperoni pizza and guacamole-dipped Tater Tots in one evening. It'll give you nightmares."

"Ah," said Rory sagely. "Dreaming about Luke again?"

"Hah!" exclaimed Lorelai triumphantly. "No Luke last night. Last night was all about my debutante ball." She took the proffered cup of Joe and drank greedily, as if she'd really danced all those dances.

Rory settled herself on the bed. "Uh, Mom, you didn't have a debutante ball," she probed.

"In this dream I did, hon. Mom didn't find out about you until after the first ball and I managed to alter my dress to fit. Then it got really weird after the fan dance. I started dancing with all of these guys. From high school, from our early years at the Inn, even recently."

"You mean..."

"Max Medina, yes, the very one. Boy, let me tell you, that was one dodged bullet. He was a terrible dancer, but kept trying to tell me how to dance. I was glad when the next guy came along. He was the best! Strong arms, knew how to dance, knew how to lead, his cologne even smelled like coffee. A solid, reliable guy."

"In other words, Luke." Rory smirked at her mother.

"No! Not just like Luke! This guy was ... um ..."

"Just like Luke," Rory finished for her.

Lorelai collapsed back on the bed in despair. "No," she added weakly, "He wore a suit."

"Luke has a suit, Mom. If I recall correctly, one you bought for him, and if the gossip of that day is true, you practically dressed him in it multiple times, like your own living Ken doll."

Rory stood up, took the empty coffee mug and walked to the door. "Face it, Mom, Luke's your dream guy. Now get up. You promised him we'll help out today."

Lorelai hopped out of bed, calling, "I wonder if Luke had a shingle with a shimmy and a shake when he had his boiled leaves!"

"Hurry up, Mom! Ken is counting on you! Enough already with the diner lingo."

* * *

Luke was grateful when the girls arrived just as lunch was peaking. He placed a guiding hand on Lorelai's shoulder as she moved past him to tie on a small apron.

"Here," he said matter-of-factly. "Fold this here, then tie it like this," he tugged the strings around her waist to give it a snug fit. "I'm gonna run upstairs and get some more phone calls made."

Lorelai caught a whiff of coffee as he passed by, reminding her of her dream.

Luke hesitated at the end of the counter, then turned and went back to Lorelai, who was prepping another pot of coffee.

"Hey, Lorelai, um, thanks again." He looked down at the ground, obviously distracted. "Uncle Louie, well, uh, um, I gotta go make some more arrangements, so I'll be upstairs for a while. Come and get me if you need me, OK?"

She leaned into him, subtly, so no one in the diner would think anything unusual. "Sure," she said. A split second later her irrepressible grin spread across her face. "I'll bring you some boiled leaves in a little while. Diner lingo for hot tea." She giggled.

He patted her shoulder. "Sounds great."

After Luke's heavy footsteps faded out of earshot, she flung herself into keeping the diner crowd entertained and fed.

Luke needed her. Not to keep the diner open, but for the important stuff. For the emotional stuff. His too-cheerful "dropped some eggs" covered his inability to say, "My uncle died." His flimsy protests at her helping out at the diner were weakened further by the gratitude in his face when she refused to give in. He was aching with pain he couldn't express, but with each confession of a tiny weakness he let her further into his most personal place. For once, Luke Danes was the recipient instead of the doer.

Normally he exercised his most personal emotions by doing things. Showing up at her house at the crack of dawn when he should have been with Rachel was a cry for help. Looking back, Lorelai realized that she should have pulled his feelings out of him instead of jumping to the conclusion that he wanted Rachel back in his life. He seemed happier when she was gone. He went back to their rhythm of food, coffee, friendship and favors without ever pining or wallowing.

Well, he did spend months carving the chuppah. That must have been how he worked out his breakup with Rachel, she thought as she bussed tables and refilled beverages,

Except that was a long time after Rachel left, and he'd seemed very normal. What could have been going on in his life that made him devote so many non-working hours to the woodcarving? In some ways Luke was simply unknowable, she shrugged, grabbing two plates of food for the Reverend and his wife.

Mrs. Skinner nearly got her soup poured into her lap as Lorelai stumbled onto the answer. It wasn't Rachel he worked out of his system with the chuppah, it was her!

After pushing back hard on her readiness to be married to Max, Luke retreated to his superficial self, except now she could see that he did that only when it came to discussions about her wedding. "Who gives a damn about what ducks do" was another egg-dropping emotional reveal. Luke cared. He really cared, like Sookie and others had said. Not about ducks, though, but about Lorelai.

When any other red-blooded male would have gone drinking or found a rebound girl or two, Luke carved the chuppah. He worked on every tiny detail, every action helping him say goodbye to Lorelai.

"Kirk, what now?" she complained as Kirk called her back to his table for another request. She was beginning to understand why Luke got so grumpy on occasion. She pushed the chuppah realization away as she tended to business.

* * *

She tried to concentrate on diner lingo but it just didn't flow any more. Instead of "Adam and Eve on a raft" it was "Luke and Lorelai under a chuppah." His feelings for her were expressed in everything he did, from the tabs he never asked her to pay to the home repairs, to never giving her quite as much coffee as she wanted, thus ensuring she'd return.

"Lorelai!" called Caesar from the kitchen. After a glance around the dining room, she stepped back into the kitchen to see what Caesar needed.

"Here's your burger with grilled onions and onion rings, just as you wanted, he said blithely.

"Burger with breath!" she exclaimed as she took a bite.

"Or take a cow and make it cry," offered Caesar. "That's what my uncle always called it." Noise from the front got his attention.

"Hey, Lorelai, you probably ought to get out there, see what's going on."

Mumbling through a mouthful of food, she nodded and went back into the dining room. Kirk had already begun cleaning up the mess he'd made when he tried to insist that Miss Patty's salad be tossed 'like Luke tossed it,' even though he'd never seen Luke toss a salad.

She took an empty spot at the counter and wolfed down her sandwich.

"Where's Luke?" whined Kirk. "He would help me clean up." He looked at Lorelai accusingly; he'd not forgotten the Equal incident.

After inserting an onion ring into her mouth and giving Kirk an onion ring grin, Lorelai turned back to her lunch.

Working the diner wasn't nearly as much fun without Luke here to entertain her. She had no distractions at the moment except for Kirk, who was boring, and, well, Kirk, who was still boring.

Her denial muscle was working overtime as she pushed memories of her debutante dream away. "It's immoral to think about him in that way when he was in mourning," she told herself. "He needs my support, not my lady bits."

Her lunch finished, she made a couple of rounds of the diner first with coffee, then ice water and iced tea. Kirk was sulking in a corner, and a couple of tables had small groups of women obviously having Kaffee Klatsches.

"Bored, bored, bored," she mumbled. Suddenly she grinned. "Luke needs lunch! I'll take him some lunch!" Her denial muscle flexed once again and she totally missed the unspoken objective that came out of nowhere: she was going to kiss Luke. Right upstairs in his apartment. She was going to kiss him.

"Caesar! Luke needs lunch!"

"Getting right on it, Lorelai," he replied affably. "His usual salad and turkey burger?"

"Sounds disgustingly like Luke, so yeah."

Her feet started moving uncontrollably on the stool. Soon she would be close to him again. Surely another hug would help. This one could linger, since they would be alone upstairs. This one could develop into something more.

"Crap!" she practically shouted, right before she also practically fainted from the smell. She breathed into her hand. Onion breath. Extraordinarily intense onion breath, the kind that comes from extra grilled onions and a big pile of onion rings. Dashing behind the counter, she excavated in her purse for toothpaste, breath mints, anything. The only thing she pulled out was a single Certs, quite literally covered in Kleenex fuzz. Or belly button lint. Or something else equally disgusting. She tossed it into the trash can and buried her face in her hands. No hug for Luke after all. No hug for Lorelai. No completely spontaneous unplanned yet planned kiss. Unless...

"Caesar! You got that wimpy for Luke ready?"

"Just about," he called.

"Pin a rose on it, ok? A nice big one!"

"Hey, it's your funeral if he doesn't like it," shrugged the cook.

She wrinkled her nose at the turkey burger with a side of salad vegetables, appreciating only the onion she'd ordered. Just in case, not that there was any expectation, not even a wish; after all, they were just friends who hadn't ever kissed; but just in case her own oniony lips should accidentally fall onto his, it should at least happen after he'd joined her in the pungent breath party.

Stepping behind the curtain, she set the plate down on a stair, gave her girls a little push up, then proceeded to the top and knocked on Luke's apartment door.

"Luke, it's me."

Luke opened the door to her sympathetic yet smiling face.

"Hey. I brought you a wimpy with a rose pinned on it."

He squinted at the plate. "A what?"

"Turkey burger with onions."

"Oh, thanks. Come on in." Still obviously occupied with his worries before she knocked, he took the plate silently and carried it over to the kitchen counter.

Lorelai gestured toward the half-finished Jess space as they walked past the construction area, idly thinking that Luke missed a great opportunity to build 4 walls and a door with a lock for the teenage hoodlum. "How's the money pit coming?"

"Oh, just uh ... that's it."

Lorelai held back her next comment, which was going to be a brilliant suggestion that Luke put the lock on the outside of the door and use a massive quantity of soundproofing material. "What's the matter?"

He shrugged, defeated. "Nothing." Finally his frustration poured out of him. "None of them are coming – not a one."

"Who?"

"My relatives – the ones I booked all the rooms for – not one is coming to Louie's funeral."

"You're kidding – why?"

He sneered as he recalled the pathetic excuses his family had come up with. "I don't know, which lame-o excuse do you wanna hear first? A bunch of 'em claimed they can't get outta work."

"It's not so lame-o."

"Randy and Barbara don't wanna miss their brat kid's rugby semifinal."

"Rugby has semifinals?"

"My sister never even called back. My cousins Paul and Jim, who my dad helped put through college, said they were too exhausted from a fishing trip. And slightly disturbed cousin Franny said she can't leave because her Petey's sick."

"Son?"

"Parrot."

"Petey the parrot?"

"I saw the stupid thing once on a visit, flapping its wings like crazy, banging around, squawking the only two words it knows over and over – Petey and gorgeous. Gorgeous, Petey, gorgeous, Petey!

Lorelai suppressed a chuckle. "That's disturbing."

"My family's disturbing."

"I'm so sorry."

"This is wrong, this is not how it's done. A family member dies; you pay your respects – period."

His sadness at being let down once again by family was obvious. It wasn't just a minor angry rant. "Look at it this way – if they don't wanna be there, you don't want them there."

"My dad wanted 'em to be there."

"I know. But hey, Louie lived in Stars Hollow most of his life, so a lot of people from here will be there, right?

"Right."

"I know it's upsetting, but maybe it's better this way."

"Yeah, I guess," he sighed. "I really hate that bird."

Lorelai watched Luke completely ignore his lunch, moving it out of his way on the counter. She knew that there was no need to balance onion breath today, because Luke was too wrapped up in his family drama to see his own meal, much less recognize the alternative and very dirty feast that kept popping into her mind.

This was not going to be one of those days when she and Luke shared a 'moment.' It had, in fact, been a very long time since they'd had anything that she would have to deny was happening to them. Not even their recent hug could be described as a moment.

Well, Luke's Petey mimicry was a moment, just not the romantic one she'd built up in her mind.

Lorelai sighed, dealt with Rory coming up to tell her that Jackson wanted to speak to her, flipped her hair, noticed that Luke didn't react like he normally did when she flipped, and went downstairs.

* * *

Returning to the diner after convincing her mother that the gazebo should not be moved, Lorelai made her round with drinks and checked to see if anyone wanted anything additional. Nothing was needed; even Caesar was back in the kitchen taking a break as he texted his girlfriend. Lorelai was bored again.

Boredom in the diner usually meant teasing Luke into a rant or an argument, but she didn't want to irritate him since his relatives were doing such a fine job of it themselves.

"Luke, I'm bored," she said as she re-entered the apartment.

Luke was staring at the construction for Jess' bedroom. Even Jess had refused to go to the funeral.

"What? Hey." he said, noticing her for the first time.

Lorelai walked up to him and patted him on the arm affectionately. "You haven't eaten," she noted.

"Um, yeah, I'll get to it in a little while," he replied.

She went to the fridge, took a bottle of water, opened it and thrust it into his hands. "Drink. You'll feel better."

Luke looked at the bottle, other things clearly on his mind.

"That's a good boy," she said as he nearly emptied the bottle.

"I'm not a dog," he complained. "I don't need to be talked to like one."

It was definitely time to back off, thought Lorelai. First, the best tool she had to distract Luke from bad thoughts was telling him she needed something. That had backfired - usually saying she was bored started him off on a tangent, but today it didn't even register that she'd said something.

Irritated, Luke pushed himself away from the counter.

"I hate being lied to!" he exclaimed. "Rugby? That kid hasn't moved from the sofa since he got his first Gameboy. My dad, he tapped a big chunk of his savings to put Jimmy and Paul through college. When I started college, I paid for it myself!"

"Well, you're a man of integrity," consoled Lorelai, giving him an awkward sideways hug the moment he stood still.

"Jim at least started paying Dad back. He wrote exactly one check for a hundred bucks. That didn't even touch the thousands Dad gave them. Dad never said a thing about it, either."

Luke broke away from her embrace when the phone started ringing, missing her slight pout.

"Hello?" His eyes widened as he continued, "Hey, Barbara. What's up?"

She spoke for a moment.

"Do you need those rooms after all? Uh-huh." He tapped the toe of his shoe on the floor.

"Yeah." Suddenly his back became ramrod stiff. He caught Lorelai's eye and shook his head no.

"The baseball cards? Randy says that Uncle Louie wanted him to have them?" He rolled his eyes at Lorelai, who was avidly listening.

"No, Uncle Louie didn't exactly leave a will. He just wrote a letter about his funeral, what he wants and stuff."

"Nah, he was just renting. It looks like there's just enough money to pay for the funeral."

Luke's face darkened. "Yeah, no car either. He was living in a retirement community. They had buses and golf carts and stuff."

Crossing his arms over his chest and tucking the phone between his chin and his shoulder, he continued. "So how's Joey doing with his rugby?"

He nodded. "Ah-hah. He scored 15 'touchdowns' all by himself? In one game? Wow, that's something. That's really something."

"Well, Barbara, you can tell Randy that Louie had clear instructions for the baseball cards, but Randy's name wasn't on them."

He nodded, still listening to Barbara. "Well, that's a shame, isn't it? Too bad he can't come and help me go through Louie's stuff. He'd at least get to look at the cards once more."

"Nah, don't bother. I'll finish it tomorrow, and with Randy's 'bad back'" he rolled his eyes at Lorelai once again, "he definitely shouldn't travel."

"Ah. Yeah, I'll let you know if I change my mind." He nodded. "Oh, and Barbara?" he barked. "Rugby doesn't have touchdowns. Bye."

Hanging up, he clapped his hands together once and grimaced. "That, Lorelai, was today's 'Greed on Parade' show. Jeez! What are they thinking? That I'm stupid?" He threw his hands up in the air in disgust.

He walked back to the kitchen counter, looked at his untouched sandwich, then tipped it into the trash can.

"Oh hey," he said, remembering Lorelai again, "You can cancel those rooms now."

Lorelai shrugged. "It's no problem. It's not a busy time anyway. I can cancel them at the last minute."

He approached her and squeezed her shoulder. "No, please do it now. I hate that stuff hanging over me."

"Luke, there's nothing hanging over you. The rooms are yours, even if your relatives are such ungrateful, greedy wretches that it makes me think they're from Hartford."

She leaned into him, offering comfort while at the same time accepting that there would be no 'dream Luke' coming to life while he dealt with his family.

"Make the call."

Reluctantly Lorelai picked up the telephone and dialed the Independence Inn. Michel answered with aplomb after a ring and a half.

Holding the handset slightly away from her ear until Luke could hear Michel's voice; she grinned and winked at Luke. "Tina? Can you please cancel those rooms I blocked for this week? We won't need them."

She laughed. "Oh stop it, Tina! I love your Michel imitation! Just don't tell him about it or he'll get really mad."

Holding the handset away from her ear as Michel yelled at her, she giggled, "And a check mark for today!"

The dial tone let Lorelai know that Michel had hung up on her, so she put the handset back on the hook and turned to him.

"So, we are partners in crime, now!" she giggled again.

"How so?" he grunted.

"You put Barbara in her place and I got my daily dose of annoying Michel in. Just enough evil to keep us on Santa's naughty list."

"Ah," he said, looking down at the table.

"We now have a secret bond; honor among thieves and all that, you know. Pinky swear that we are bound to never reveal our dastardly behavior to another?"

She crooked her pinky and held it too close to his face.

"Get that away from me!" he snarled affectionately as he batted her hand away. "I'm done here. I'm going back to work."

"You betcha, Boss!" she chortled. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Luke slide his wallet and keys into his pockets, then gave her a little shove toward the door.

She purposefully gave him too little personal space as he locked the apartment. When he gasped as he turned and found her grinning face too close to his, she said, "Do Petey for me again!"

"No."

"Gorgeous Lukey! Gorgeous Lukey!" she parroted as she followed him across the landing to the top of the stairs.

Luke spun on his heel and wagged a finger in her laughing face, only half-able to repress a smile himself.

Lorelai quickly hooked her pinky with his, crowing "Now we are bound for eternity!"

As they made their way down the stairs, Lorelai felt Luke return to his normal grumpy self.

"Will you wear an eyepatch when you do Petey the next time? And say 'Argh!' please?"

"Will you cut out the pinky swears?"

"Never!"

"Right back atcha."


	3. Match Made in Heaven

She'd copped a feel. There was no denying it. During the town meeting debacle in which Taylor was exercising his cart, kiosk, cart/kiosk vendetta against the long-haired freak who dared to sell his produce on the town square, she leaned in to pat a stressed-out Luke's knee.

Due to a sudden shift in his position on the uncomfortable folding chair, Luke inadvertently caused Lorelai's hand to lay somewhat higher on his knee than she expected. High enough that Luke bolted upright in his chair as a red aurora borealis of embarrassment began rising on his neck.

High enough that an observant Jess looked at her, smirked, and turned his attention to the front again.

Lorelai took refuge in the "Taylor Left Me Twistin'" song discussion.

Later, after she'd seen how the re-enactors refused to appear at Louie's funeral, she resolved to fix it.

"Cut the weakest out of the herd," she said to herself as she cornered Kirk.

She dusted her hands in satisfaction afterward. Kirk needed no more pressure than to be reminded that Lorelai could arrange for him to be banned from the diner any time.

She opened the door to Andrew's bookstore, where he was busy closing up for the night.

"Hey, Andrew," she said as she closed the door.

"Hi Lorelai," he replied affably. "Say, I just got confirmation on the order Rory placed today for those journalism books. They ought to be in within a week. Best order I've gotten all week."

Lorelai squinched up her face as if she were trying to avoid pain. "Yeah, about that order, I'm afraid we're going to have to cancel that one."

Andrew blinked in surprise. "But Rory said it was a rush order."

"Well, you know, things happen," she said. "I've also got a couple of books at home to return."

"Return? Are they defective?"

"No, no, they seem to be alright. It's just that, you know ..." She let her sentence deliberately fade away.

He nodded sagely. "Budget crunch, huh? I understand."

"No, actually I'll re-order them. The Borders bookstore ought to be able to handle them, I think."

"But you always order from me," he protested.

"I figure it's better to cut our losses now, since you're pulling out of Stars Hollow."

"I'm not pulling out of town! Who said that?"

"You know, what with you quitting the re-enactors, it seems like it's a matter of time before you close up completely. We can't really put our money into a business that isn't committed to the town." She gave him a sad, sympathetic smile. "I mean, I know you wouldn't let Luke down if you didn't have a good reason."

Andrew threw his pen onto the counter. "Aw, Lorelai, I didn't mean anything by that. It was Louie. He was such a hateful old guy."

"Andrew, you're smart enough to know that funerals are for the living not the dead. Luke's the guy you need to consider. Remember him? The guy who remembers your special orders and doesn't talk about your allergies when you bring a date into the diner? The guy who opened a tab for Jess' expensive book habit, and paid it off every month?"

The bookstore owner caved, and Lorelai was soon on her way. Sy, Bert and the rest of the re-enactors were equally easy to remind them of their civic duty.

Then Lorelai found herself nose to nose with Taylor Doose. Mano a mano. Taylor with boxes of tampons in his hand as he restocked the shelves. Lorelai with her Valkyrie wings spread wide, determined to be victorious stood at the opposite end of the aisle, the Red Vines and Mallomars section.

"Taylor," she said calmly.

"Lorelai," acknowledged the grocer. "The price on these is going up, so you should stock up before it's too late."

She snorted. "Your prices are already twenty percent higher than any other place within 20 miles."

Slowly she approached him, guardedly watching him as if those tampons were loaded and he were about to shoot. The Red Vines bag she'd grabbed would offer little protection against the cottony bullets in Taylor's hand.

"The re-enactors are going to be at Louie's funeral tomorrow, and you're going to be with them. Full uniform, loaded fake muskets, hats, everything."

It was Taylor's turn to snort. "Louie was an ass and everyone hated him. No one will be there, especially not me."

"Look around," warned Lorelai. "Your gang has deserted you. You stand alone in this."

"Nonsense," he replied confidently. "Kirk will always do what I say, and the rest said their pieces earlier tonight."

Lorelai chortled evilly. "Kirk was the first one to fold. Andrew's at home pressing his uniform as we speak. You've lost this one, Taylor. Take it like a man."

"Those lily-livered cowards," he growled. "Never! You can't make me!"

Lorelai shouldered her way past Taylor to the overflowing vegetable display. "Looks like you're not moving the vegetables, are you?" She arched an eyebrow as she picked up some green thing, found it too squishy, and exchanged it for a stalk of Brussels sprouts. "They're getting softer and older by the day. Soon they'll be rotting on a compost heap, along with your business."

Visibly shaken by her prediction, Taylor hesitantly replied, "That long-haired hippie freak can't hold on forever. I've got the deep vegetable pockets. I will outlast him."

"Maybe so," she commented nonchalantly, tossing the stalk of sprouts in the air and barely catching it before it fell to the ground. "Or maybe some enterprising young local businesswoman will start a home garden campaign, even offering part of the Independence Inn's grounds as a community vegetable plot."

"You wouldn't!" he gasped.

"I called my little Encyclopedia Rory. She says your markups are 150 percent and higher. It's the primary profit margin for you. You won't be so confident this time next year when you're reduced to being your own bag boy."

"Everybody hated Louie!" he repeated impotently.

"Everybody loves Luke, and they loved his dad. Even you liked his dad. I seem to recall Luke telling the story about how his dad saved your business-butt more than once in your early days. Something about you hiring cheap out of town contractors who did a crappy job and Luke's dad did the repairs for nothing. You owe Luke and his father, Taylor. Now pony up." She popped the bag of Red Vines and slipped one into her mouth like a farmer chewing a stalk of wheat.

Taylor scowled at her. "You'll make sure there's no community garden?"

She nodded.

"You'll throw some of your restaurant purchases my way?"

"If you're not serious about this Taylor, then call me Euellette Gibbons, queen of the community garden."

"Alright! Alright! You win. Full regalia, full fanfare, we'll be there."

"Twenty-one gun salute?"

He nodded despondently. "Twenty-one gun salute."

"Then my work is done. See you then, pardner."

Lorelai sauntered out of the market.

* * *

It was time for a change in strategy. Lorelai still wanted Luke's attention, and he was so distracted by the coffin selection that he had stormed off from the funeral home.

Lorelai was not used to being ignored when she gave a man her best attention and flirting.

She didn't like it when Luke ignored her, and her normal solution for that was to annoy him until she got the attention she craved. This time, however, she'd been practically throwing herself at him and because of his uncle's death; he'd not noticed a thing. OK, she knew he'd noticed her knee pat at the town meeting, but that was all his fault. She had nothing but good intentions. Good, altruistic, somewhat dirty, intentions.

If she'd made this effort a couple of years ago, heck, a couple of months ago, she knew Luke would have noticed. Memories of her double date with Sookie, or Luke's jealousy of the Chilton dad gave her comfort. Even the affectionate looks he gave her over the past few days told her that their relationship could handle going the next step.

Her new strategy – get to the point. Cut to the chase, get down to brass tacks, draw a map – whatever it took to get his attention, it was going to happen today. Today he would ask her out and she would flirtatiously accept his manly offer. Even if she had to put the words into his mouth, then drag it out of him.

Constantly hopping from one foot to the other, she waited for Luke's return to the diner. She'd long since been back in order to work the lunch shift, which was a good thing, because Rory still had to drag Jess into the smallest effort. It did not escape Lorelai that Jess' eyes sparkled when Rory was bossing him around, and she made a mental note to warn her in some way.

When Luke walked through the door, her energy level spiked and she barely held herself back from hugging him again. She'd been quite worried about where he'd gone when he stalked off.

Her heartbeat was bouncing in time with her feet as he sweetly thanked her for her help, before launching into his story of finding the big and tall casket store. This was a Luke she could work with, she thought. The warmth in his eyes as he let her draw him into her Lucky Duck Cluck story was entrancing. Had he always had eyes such a deep blue?

They drew closer as she assured him that he was doing the right thing, and for the right reasons.

Her nerves were on edge. She wanted to let him know subtly that she liked their current level of intimacy and wanted to see about going even further, but to be honest, she couldn't think of any way to tell him that didn't sound like a lame pickup line. Then, in the flash of a moment, her mother walked through the door and Luke disappeared upstairs to change his clothes.

After greeting her mother, and Emily took the time to inform her how unhappy she was that Sookie had fired her, Lorelai stood entranced as Emily described her vision of Lorelai's wedding. Unnerved that Emily had caught Lorelai's love of snow so accurately and had described a scenario that Lorelai actually could have imagined for herself, she had to push back.

"I know that in a million years, you would never let me plan your wedding. I gave up on that dream a long time ago. Yours was going to be a Russian winter theme – the Romanovs."

"Before the firing squad, I assume?"

"Snow white roses, trees with white lights and candles, snow everywhere, you arriving in a silver sleigh with white horses."

Pushing aside the image of Luke standing in a winter wonderland in the tuxedo that Emily would most certainly insist on him wearing, Lorelai tried to stop the discussion.

"It just doesn't seem like me," Lorelai insisted as she saw herself dreamily floating in a Stars Hollow winter wedding scene.

"Well, it would have been beautiful."

"I'm sure it would have been."

"It's obvious that wouldn't even be appropriate anymore being as I'm probably standing in your reception hall."

"Excuse me?"

"Burgers and fries for the dinner? The bride walks down the aisle with a ketchup dispenser in her hand."

Now Emily had gone too far. It was one thing for Lorelai to explore her feelings for Luke, but it was completely another for her to mock their relationship by describing a wedding that would embarrass Emily so much she'd never consider attending.

"Please tell me what you're talking about." Trying to confuse the issue was one of Lorelai's best tricks for getting out of an uncomfortable situation.

Emily would have none of it.

"I'm talking about Luke."

Lorelai shifted uncomfortably. She hated it when her mother hit too close to home.

"Luke? Mom!"

"Well, it's obvious, Lorelai."

"No, it's not, Mom." Lorelai's anger began to grow.

"You're with him constantly," said Emily smugly.

Everyone (almost) in Stars Hollow knew not to say things like that about Luke and Lorelai's friendship. "He feeds me."

"You bring up his name constantly."

Why couldn't Emily just follow the rules? Denial always struggles in the face of facts. "One again, he feeds me."

"The moment he calls, you run to his side."

That she would defend until her last breath. "He's my friend, he needed me; I had to be there."

Emily smirked. "Yes, I know you did."

Luke rushed into the dining room, still buttoning his flannel. The first thing he noticed, as always, was Lorelai, followed by her mother. Steam was virtually rolling out of Lorelai's ears, suddenly making it obvious where the continual humidity came from that make even her straightened hair get curly again quickly.

Now that the arrangements had been completed for Louie's funeral, he could breathe again.

"Hi," he greeted Emily.

"Hello." Her greeting was curt. "I have to go. I'll see you for dinner tonight, Lorelai. And Luke, I'm sure I'll see you again soon." Turning as she opened the door, she looked sharply at Luke. "What do you think of the Romanovs?"

"They probably had it coming," he replied.

"A match made in heaven." Emily shook her head and walked out the door.

"That was weird," he said. He looked at Lorelai. She was angry, no doubt from something her mother had said.

Suddenly Luke's brain was filled with the weird things Lorelai had done over the past few days.

Lorelai stared at him.

* * *

As Emily reached the sidewalk, Taylor Doose came around the corner.

"Ah! Mrs. Gilmore?" he greeted her cordially.

She looked at him for a moment, before she recalled his name. "Hello, Mr. Doose. Nice to see you again. We met at the Independence Inn, didn't we?"

He preened with pleasure at being remembered by such a fine lady. "Yes, we did. It was that Renaissance dinner that your daughter had."

"Well, truly Renaissance it wasn't, but she tried," replied Emily.

He nodded. "Way too many non-sequiturs, certainly. The feather on the Squire's cap was misplaced and the wrong color." He smiled, pleased to find a person of like mind. "So what brings you to town?"

"I was helping Sookie with her wedding plans, at least until she changed her mind about everything. It was going to be a glorious, fun affair, right here in the square."

"You know I would have done everything possible to make sure you had the right permits. A wedding planned by you would be the talk of the county."

She gave him her "I know you're sucking up to me and it's the proper thing to do" smile.

"Sadly, it is not to be. My daughter put a complete stop to everything." Emily shrugged innocently.

As if they had one mind, the pair turned back toward the diner door and looked for Lorelai.

"Oh my god!" exclaimed Emily. "What is that man doing?"

Taylor growled, "He's violating a number of Stars Hollow ordinances, most obviously the Preservation of Our Children's Morals ordinance and a large number of sanitary regulations. Let me handle this."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "I will not be embarrassed in this way. I will deal with her!"

They looked at each other and smiled, happy to have a partner who knew what the right thing to do was.

They threw the diner door open and rushed inside, its bells jingling angrily.

* * *

As Emily exited the diner, Lorelai cracked. Her stare turned into action.

Before he could ask what had happened between her and her mother, Lorelai launched into a frenzy, continually bouncing up and down on her toes as she searched for a way to release her energy.

"Dancing midgets moving the gazebo to make room for the 16 piece orchestra!" she blurted. "That's crazy, right? And what does it mean to have a Romanov wedding when they're all just going to get killed afterward? The snow was a good idea, though, and the twinkle lights are a must, but they're already all over the town, so we don't have to worry about them, except if we need more twinkle lights because Harry has retired and maybe I should ask him if he's got a closeout sale. But those were the crazy thoughts that Emily put into my head, when all I really wanted was to make you feel better about your Uncle Louie, or maybe a date, or a kiss, or a hug back. Instead I copped a feel, for which I am very, very sorry; I really just meant to pat you on the knee, and now I was going to let you ask me out, but then Emily walked in and discombobulated me and my mind keeps going in circles as I try to figure out how to fix this, if there's even anything that needs fixing."

"Yeah, that's crazy," answered Luke, grateful to have recognized something from her rant that he could respond to.

Lorelai waved her arms in the air wildly. "She makes me insane! She waltzes in here, all Porterhouse steak and running to your side. Oh! I'm so angry!"

Before Luke could ask her to follow up on the part where she was going to let him ask her out, Lorelai grabbed his blue flannel, pulled him to her, and kissed him angrily.

Stunned by the kiss, Luke let it go on until Lorelai stepped back, her chest heaving as she looked at him.

This had been a crazy week, and seemed to be getting crazier by the minute, Luke thought. First Uncle Louie's demands and his insufferable relatives, and now Lorelai Gilmore had planted her lips on his without warning. It was like accidentally bungee-jumping into heaven – a shock, but oh, so much happiness.

After debating for a split-second about whether Lorelai had really lost it this time, he groaned, "Oh what the hell!" Then he pulled her back into his arms and started their second kiss.

"Lorelai! What do you think you are doing?" exclaimed Emily.

"That is a clear violation of Ordinance 432.H.19, the POCM regulation!" shouted Taylor. "You must immediately cease and desist!"

Emily turned to Taylor. "What in the world is that ordinance?"

"The Protection of Our Children's Morals regulation," replied Taylor blithely.

"Oh, I like that law. Can we put them in jail?" she smirked.

"Unfortunately, no. There was a problem back in the days of Art Brush and Fay Wellington that resulted in a legal judgement that these highly necessary morality laws can't receive more than a modest fine."

"What a shame," said Emily. "The moral compass of this country has degraded beyond belief. I do like the way you've got this town organized, though. Very proper behavior."

The bells jingled, and Taylor and Emily looked to see Mrs. Kim coming through the door, clearly incensed at what she could see through the diner's picture window.

"Mr. Doose, what is going on here?" she demanded. "First you allow French fries, and this is the result! Complete debauchery in the middle of Stars Hollow!"

Lorelai and Luke broke apart, gasping for air. He tugged on her shirt, unwilling to let her get too far away.

"You're stepping on my boots," he said. "Bouncing, actually."

Lorelai shrugged. "You told me they have steel toes. What does it matter?" She grinned sexily at him and opened the buttons on his flannel so she could slide her arms around his waist with one less layer.

"It's the bouncing that annoys me," he complained. "Do you ever stand still?"

She finished with his flannel and pulled him to her aggressively. "Stupid man. Later I'll show you just how much fun bouncing can be." She giggled. "Wow. That was really dirty."

Luke wrapped his arm around her shoulders and protectively pulled her into his embrace. "Tell you what, as soon as you let me ask you out, we can revisit the whole bouncing thing." With that he captured her lips once more.

"They really aren't stopping, are they?" asked Emily.

"They're like rabbits," agreed Taylor.

"It's a sin," complained Mrs. Kim. "Can't we hose them down or something?"

Taylor grimaced. "Yeah, the courts kind of don't let me do that anymore either," he mumbled.

"Well, we must do something!" cried Mrs. Kim. "Think of the children!"

Emily sighed. "I think the best thing we can do is plan their wedding. It's looking inevitable at this point."

"Wedding? They are engaged?" asked Mrs. Kim. "That makes this less unacceptable."

"They are not engaged. My daughter keeps denying her feelings for this man. She is so stubborn. The minute I tell her a simple truth, she has to disagree with me just because I said it was true. It's like talking to a teenager."

Taylor scoffed. "Lorelai stubborn? You haven't met Luke."

"Oh, I've met Luke. Over and over again. If not face to face, then he's in Lorelai's stories or has helped Rory with something. To hear it, he's their personal Lancelot; their white knight. Scruffiest knight I ever saw," Emily muttered.

"They must marry. It's the only way to make this shocking display acceptable to God," stated Mrs. Kim.

Emily sighed. "I don't think we could stop them if we wanted to. It's a match made in heaven."

She crooked her head and looked back outside at the gazebo. "Mr. Doose, what would it take to arrange a wedding here in the town square?"

Taylor puffed himself up like a chicken. "There are regulations, of course."

"I expected nothing less from you. One must have standards," agreed Emily.

"A wedding? I have many antiques that would be suitable," offered Mrs. Kim. "There are silver candlesticks, and linens and many beautiful things."

Taylor looked thoughtful. "Hmm, if the wedding is of any significant size, we'll have to work around the gazebo. I presume you have plenty of Hartford connections who must be invited, correct?"

Emily's good mood returned. "Why yes! There are the relatives, and many business acquaintances, and the DAR, or course. If we were to move the gazebo, we could make space for a 30-piece orchestra, couldn't we?" Previously, Emily had kept her plans for Sookie's wedding modest. For Lorelai, she had no boundaries, especially if she could keep the reception out of the diner.

"Live music is truly the best," agreed the Selectman. "Will you have a harp trio as well? If yes, then we'll need to move it and put the harps up there, under shelter. My niece plays harp, and they are simply too large to move quickly if it begins to rain."

She turned to Mrs. Kim. "We must go to your shop so I can reserve the items that we will need. Mr. Doose, will you accompany us? A man's opinion would be so helpful at this stage." She threw a look at Lorelai and Luke, still off in their own world. "It's clear we won't get any help from those two."

"I'll be happy to assist in any way I can. Ladies?" he held the door open for them as they went off to make the arrangements.

 _FIN_

* * *

 **A/N:** This was a long, hard birth, but I really wanted to play with the notion of Lorelai being in a "sowing wild oats" mode as the reason she didn't try Luke as a partner in the early seasons. Seeing as she hardly changed from this grown-up teenager state throughout the whole series, I think it explains a lot of her behavior.

The fact that Lorelai and Luke are starting a romantic relationship based on a whim of Lorelai's and a "what the hell" attitude from Luke pretty much asks for a sequel, just to find out how they crash and burn, because they will. However, I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to actually execute, so this will be defined as complete.


End file.
